Transfiguration celebration

Our 47th wedding anniversary. We drove into St Dogmaels to the mid-morning Eucharist of the Transfiguration - our feast. On Sunday, we'd told the locum priest Fr Geoffrey that we'd be there. I was annoyed that the journey took longer than expected, so we arrived as the collect for the day was being read. Embarrassing. After the service we were taken aback by Fr Geoffrey's announcement to the gathering over coffee of our anniversary. We were given a around of applause, and a small gift and card. What kind lovely people!

 Tuesday is farmers' market day in St Dogmael's, outside the gates of the Abbey ruins - less than a dozen stalls - fruit 'n veg, meat, fish, and a couple selling cheese, and a couple selling plants. In the courtyard of the Abbey visitor centre, there was live traditional music from a harpist accompanied by recorder and flute players. A refreshing change from ubiquitous canned music. One of the vendors, from whom we bought a some goat cheese for lunch, is a regular at Cardiff Riverside Market. Meeting him in a different location was an added extra to an enjoyable local shopping experience.

With the weather vastly improved from yesterday, we decided to drive to Trefdraeth / Newport to revisit a beach first discovered over forty years ago when Kath was a toddler. We holidayed together here with University friends Frank and Barbara and their baby of the same age as Kath, Sasha. But, could we remember where we stayed, close to the shore? Could remember the place at all as it was then?

  Things change in forty years, although not that much really, given modern planning and conservation legislation. What has changed noticeably however is the number of boats visible, on the sand at low tide alongside the river Nevern. Many more leisure craft, though thankfully not organised into the straight rows of another dreary municipal marina - just stranded, waiting for the tide to turn.

We enjoyed a picnic lunch on a bench overlooking the beach - goat cheese and locally baked apple pie. Then we followed the coast path up the Nevern estuary as far as the road bridge, crossed over and walked down the other side for a while, to where we could see a small flock of oystercatchers feeding. On the way back over the bridge, we caught sight of a curlew on the river's edge.

We couldn't go home without Clare having a swim, so we drove over to the north side of the estuary to the main beach, just as the tide was turning, for her to have a brief dip before heading home for a paella made with smoked fish. That's certainly a dish I didn't know how to cook the day we plighted our troth.